


Reality was out of focus, I could be hopeless

by angelsandsacrificers



Series: Drabbles [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Fist Fight, If you want to know what this fic even is, Mentioned Jane Chatwin - Freeform, Time Loop, Unbeta'd because I'm scared of people, good question
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25703008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandsacrificers/pseuds/angelsandsacrificers
Summary: “Q, this is more than we can handle.”
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater & Eliot Waugh
Series: Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751650
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Reality was out of focus, I could be hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> Forewarning, if you are confused by this fic, me too. This is set in some random timeline, take your pick.

Somehow, after all that planning it was just the two of them at the clearing.

“Q, this is more than we can handle.”

Quentin squeezed Eliot’s hand impossibly tighter. He could feel him shaking, and was honestly surprised he was so still. He gulped.

“There’s not much we can do, El. We can hope backup shows up, but we can’t leave. If we leave we could miss our chance, or we could be caught off even more guard than we already are. All we can do now is buy time. We have to trust that Alice and Margo will be here. From the day I stepped onto the Brakebills grass, it was more than we could handle.”

Eliot pulled Quentin into a fierce hug. His face was in Quentin’s hair and he could feel Eliot’s tears dampening his scalp. Nose buried in Eliot’s chest, he took deep breaths. He inhaled the scent that made up Eliot and breathed to steady himself. Eliot, smelling faintly like alcohol and some earthy cologne that was too expensive and vague hints of spices from the kitchen and the homely scent that the Cottage gave off. He squeezed his eyes shut and held on

“If-if we’re going to die I just want you-I just,” Eliot croaked out. He took a shuddering breath. “I love you, Q. You’re my best friend.”

Quentin held him with a ferocity that was unparalleled. “I love you too, El.”

They didn’t bother with the niceties of ‘Hey no, we’re not going to die. We can do this!” They had seen the probability spells. The Beast took no mercy and he made sure every moment was excruciating. Neither of them had the Leo blade. Alice did. But no, Alice and Margo just had to fuck off and do god knows what without even telling them. Eliot and Quentin were already headed toward the Wellspring. Get to the Wellspring, they had said. We’ll meet you there with more firepower. The Beast won’t be there until we call him. There was a whoosh nearby.

“Oh, just you two this time? Well I dare say dear Jane makes my job easier every time.”

Quentin untangled himself from Eliot and held his head high. 

“It doesn’t even matter if you take us.” His voice was wet. “Our friends are coming and they will take you down.”

“You mean the perky little blonde and the ice queen?” Eliot paled. The Beast chuckled and continued. “Don’t worry I haven’t killed them.” He paused. “Well, yet.”

He took a step closer and Eliot inched in front of Quentin. The Beast gave Quentin an appraising look and sighed. 

“Doesn’t matter anyway. As soon as I kill you, dear Quentin, my wonderful sister will reset the loop and we’ll have a whole ‘nother round of fun!” 

“Don’t touch him,” Eliot all but growled. The Beast gave him a soft look. “Oh Eliot,” he said. “You always want to have your air of nonchalance, but really,” he reached out to caress his cheek, “you always care the most. ”

Eliot stood stiff. “You know by now,” the Beast continued,, “about all the time loops.” He was circling them like a hunter stalking his prey. Which, Quentin supposed, he was. “You know they exist,” he tapped the side of his head with his index finger, “but I remember them.” 

“Each and every loop you give yourself up in hopes of buying your friends more time.” He scoffed. “Like any amount of time would help them, martyr.”

He stopped once more in front of Eliot. “It’s very sweet,” he chuckled to himself. “Well, it would be, if you weren’t already so keen on destroying yourself.”

Then out of nowhere, Eliot gave the Beast a very impressive and very strong right hook. It sent the Beast sprawling in the dirt. It didn’t seem to deter him though because he got back up almost immediately, laughing and brushing the dirt off of his lapels. 

“You know, instantly killing you all with magical slashes or broken necks is getting rather boring. Should we have a regular old tussle in the dirt?”

“Fine by me,” Eliot started. Quentin grabbed his hand. “El, no. He’s just going to kill you. I can’t watch that. Please.”

“Then what are we meant to do Quentin?” Eliot sounded exasperated. His eyes welled. “Alice and Margo aren’t coming. Not in time anyway. Without the knife, or god power, there’s nothing we can do.” 

Quentin scrabbled to grab some part of Eliot, his arms, his hands, his vest, his shirt, anything, but Eliot kept backing away. He turned to face the Beast once more, slowly approaching. Fists up, Eliot got in a fighting stance with his feet planted firmly on the ground. Quentin took the time to idly wonder how Eliot, fabulous, fashionable Eliot knew how to fight. It hit him then that Eliot had spent undergrad in a not-so-welcoming scene, and despite his elegance had probably gotten in a bar fight once or twice before. 

The Beast smirked and readied himself. Eliot threw in a couple good punches, and had they hit would’ve made him, at the very least, stumble. The Beast took Eliot’s flurry of rage in stride, biding his time. When Eliot slowed to catch his breath, the Beast thrust his fist into the bottom of Eliot’s chin. His head flew back and Quentin winced at the small cracking sound that came out of it. 

He gently shook his head out and had almost readied himself in time for a sweeping kick to the back of his knees. Eliot hit the ground instantly, only dazed for a moment, but quickly kept up the enthusiasm by swinging his boot heels into the Beast’s shins, undeterred. The kicks didn’t even seem to bother the Beast as he loomed, smirking, over Eliot. He slowly lowered his foot onto Eliot’s neck, like he was placing newspaper-wrapped porcelain into a moving box. He was being gentle and delicate, like he  _ cared  _ about Eliot’s well-being. It filled Quentin with an unbridled rage. 

Quentin hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time. It felt like he was on fire. He was furious, furious with Jane for putting them in these stupid loops, furious at Martin for conquering FIllory and taking from the Wellspring, furious with Christopher Plover, furious with Alice and Margo for leaving them here, furious with Penny for disappearing with Julia weeks ago, furious with himself for not being able to do anything. It felt like he was on fire, being devoured by heat but having no way to stop it.

Martin looked up and made eye contact with Quentin, still smirking. He ran forward, ran to Eliot. As soon as he moved, Martin stepped onto Eliot’s neck and twisted his foot. Quentin fell to his knees and crawled towards him. 

“YOU BASTARD,” ripped out of someone’s throat from across the clearing. He didn’t bother to register who it was. Eliot’s eyes were still open and if he just  _ moved _ \--

A long hiss escaped from Martin, and Quentin looked up to see a knife set in his back. Then he saw Margo cradling her hand which was burnt and swollen. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She looked so broken Quentin could hardly handle it, a desolate look in her eye like nothing he saw in the hospital. 

“You might be brave darling,” Martin said as he pulled the knife out. “But you are no master magician.” No time was wasted as he thrust the blade through her throat. 

“Margo!” Her body slumped face-first onto the ground as Quentin rasped out her name. The Beast turned to him. He huddled over Eliot’s body, like there was still something of him to protect. 

“I’ll grant you mercy this time, dear boy.” As his neck snapped, he heard Alice call out for him. He didn’t have time to think about it though because the world went dark. 

And the loop was reset.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is lyrics from "Make It Up As I Go" by Mike Shinoda featuring K. Flay. Thank you for reading! As always interaction and constructive criticism is appreciated!


End file.
